


Yakuza no Kemono o Kai Narasu

by Scrunchles



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Alpha Roadhog | Mako Rutledge, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Yakuza Mako Rutledge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 16:49:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrunchles/pseuds/Scrunchles
Summary: As a lieutenant, Mako doesn’t usually go out on collections, but his men have been having… trouble... with a gaijin shop keeper.  He’s refused to pay his dues for months, and seems to either disappear when they come by or leave presents behind for them.  Presents that have left two of his brothers with missing fingers.





	Yakuza no Kemono o Kai Narasu

**Author's Note:**

  * For [one_irradiated_muppet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_irradiated_muppet/gifts).



> This was written for Muppet. Merry Christmas! My discord had a Secret Santa and I got Muppet, this was so much fun to write~

As a lieutenant, Mako doesn’t usually go out on collections, but his men have been having…  _ trouble...  _ with a gaijin shop keeper.  He’s refused to pay his dues for months, and seems to either disappear when they come by or leave presents behind for them.  Presents that have left two of his brothers with missing fingers.

 

The lights are out when Mako arrives, but he can smell the fresh scent of an alpha with poor hygiene lingering on the stoop and he can see fresh paint correcting the graffiti some of his men must have left.  There’s janky patchwork on the door and cardboard in one of the windows—both must have been broken in an attempt to intimidate the man into paying up.

 

Mako tests the door of the shop—it’s unlocked.  He pushes it open without stepping forward and a can of bright orange paint drops to the floor.  It courses all over the entrance and splatters his bespoke black leather boots. It only takes Mako a single stride to step over the puddle of paint with a gruff huff.  He folds his darkly tinted glasses away to better search the dim shop. It’s worse now that he can see it. There’s shit everywhere, boxes of what he assumes is merchandise and stacks of books in a myriad of languages on the counter and shelves.  What could this place possibly sell regularly enough to stay in business?

 

Mako hears a creak on his next step and gets his hand up in front of his face just in time.  A crackling boom precedes a vicious explosion of glass and metal from below. He tastes blood and spits out a bit of something hard and sharp that made it into his mouth, his ears ringing from the volume of the bomb.  His palm has a dozen pieces of bullshit stuck in it and his cheek and chin sting and throb as he tests them by flexing his face. Great. He spreads his fingers and shakes his hand a bit to get most of the shrapnel to fall out.  It looks like it was angled to hit above a shorter man’s head, probably meant to scare rather than maim. Too bad Mako’s nearly two feet taller than average.

 

“Hooley dooley, you’re scarier than a pissed hog with a taste for plonk.”

 

Mako looks up from his bloodied hand to see the weirdest looking man he’s ever laid eyes on.  He’s long and narrow everywhere and he’s got blonde hair that might have been bright at one time, but it’s streaked through with something dark and oily as well as the bright orange paint on Mako’s boots and a few other colors Mako can’t quite make out in the shitty lighting.

 

“ _ Pay up or die _ ,” Mako says, his voice low and with only a half-hearted alpha inflection.  This reedy little shit didn’t look alpha enough to refuse a direct order. Probably why he resorted to all the traps and pretending he wasn’t in.

 

“Nah,” he replies in English.

 

“Then die,” Mako growls back in kind as he steps forward.

 

“Ohhh, it was so much more intimidating in Japanese,” the man titters.

 

Mako draws his fist back, bleeding from the trap and decked with heavy rings for each finger.

 

The man just stands there and meets Mako’s eyes, “stop,” he says gently but firmly.

 

Mako’s fist stops right before it connects with the idiot’s cheek.  The other man grins and leans up to hook a single, narrow finger around one of Mako’s tusks.  “Good boy,” he purrs as he tugs Mako’s face down, closer to his own. “Now leave me and my shop alone.”

 

“What the fuck are you?” Mako grits out.

 

“An alpha, just like you,” the man replies.  “But more committed to the bit, apparently.” He pats Mako’s cheek and then turns around and walks further back into the store.

 

Mako pushes past the suggestion to leave—just barely and that’s annoying as shit—and follows the man. “Answer me.”

 

“I’m a normal alpha.”

 

“I deal with alphas all fucking day,” Mako tells him.  “None of them can budge my resolve.”

 

The man stops and spins suddenly. When Mako bumps into him, despite his unsteady gait and the fact that he’s got a peg leg, he doesn’t budge.  “It’s because I’m not scared of you. All those alphas that back down feel threatened by you.”

 

“I  _ threatened _ you,” Mako points out.

 

“But you didn’t make me  _ feel _ it,” the man points out.  “So, you can’t kill me because I’m not afraid of you, and I don’t have your extortionist fee…” His entire face splits into a wide grin.  “Now what?”

 

Mako stares down at the smaller, frailer man who is missing his two right limbs and looks like he’s been through the ringer and back several times.  He brings his hand up to grasp the front of his shirt and the man lets him. He drags him closer, nearly off his feet and the man lets him. Mako narrows his eyes.  He can barely sort out his own thoughts. The man licks his own lips and then Mako leans in to kiss them and the man lets him.

 

——

 

The man’s name is Jamison Fawkes, but he insists on Mako calling him Jamie.  No Fawkes or honorifics, just a nickname as if they’re close like that. He calls Mako by his first name too.  He likes it, though it’s not something the massive man invited. Just like everything else about their relationship, there’s a strange perversion to a smaller, physically weaker alpha being able to twist him into knots and then work them out with just as much deft skill.  There’s a strange perversion to being called by his given name when he’s so used to hearing Rutledge with various honorifics or  _ aniki _ .  Most of all, there’s a strange perversion to the roiling heat he feels course through him when Jamie asks him what he wants and Mako tells him his latest fantasy.  Then, Jamie gives it to him.

 

He’s naked with his hands bound to the headboard, his legs splayed out with similar bindings and there’s a breeze in the room, just cool enough to be uncomfortable and it keeps passing over his balls.  Mako inhales deeply to try and ascertain whether Jamie is still in the room, but, considering that it’s Jamie’s bed they’re in, his scent already permeates the whole room.

 

“Planning on leaving me here all night?” Mako asks gruffly, but there’s a plea hidden beneath it.  He’s so hard even after not being touched for a while. The anticipation is killing him.

 

Until Jamie laughs softly and the bed creaks as he crawls up onto it, settling himself between Mako’s legs and smacking his ass hard.  Mako hisses and jolts back into the touch, his skin hypersensitive after yearning for touch for so long. 

 

“What do you want from me again?” Jamie asks innocently.  “Did you want me to fuck you or just fondle you until you come?”

 

Mako takes a few deep breaths, his words sticking in his throat and his entire body flushing as the shame wells up in him.  “Eat me,” Mako says.

 

“Sorry?” Jamie asks, spreading Mako’s cheeks and thumbing his hole.  “What was that, Mako?”

 

“Eat me out,” Mako mumbles.  “Please. I want to feel your warm, wet tongue inside me.”

 

Jamie laughs delightedly and spits between Mako’s cheeks, teasing the spit into Mako’s hole with a press of his thumb.  “That got you talking,” he titters. “Give me one more ‘please’—from the heart— and I’ll give you what you so desperately want.”  There’s no alpha force behind it, just a simple request from a simple man who wants to pleasure Mako.

 

“Please,” Mako grunts.  “Please,” he says, more firmly.  “ _ Please _ .”

 

“Well, if you’re gonna be so polite and insistent,” Jamie says before eagerly diving between Mako’s cheeks and licking and sucking and pushing his tongue as deep as it will go.

 

Mako lies there, his legs spread and hands bound, taking the waves of pleasure, unable to cover his face in shame or grip the sheets in ecstasy.  He groans and gasps and begs until his throat is ragged and he’s left a whimpering, panting mess not an hour after. His chest heaves and his throat burns lightly as his sweat-soaked body trembles around Jamie’s knot.

 

“Think I’m gonna be a little light this month,” Jamie tells Mako, tracing the swirling patterns of the tattoos that cover Mako’s body.  Deft fingers trace over the stampeding boar that courses down his back from his left shoulder, then trace their way down surging waves to an octopus that cradles a sleeping merman just above Mako’s ass.

 

“I’ll make two trips,” Mako mumbles, his voice cracking twice on the sentence.

 

Jamie laughs softly and stretches out across Mako to kiss his shoulder.  “Think that’s only fair… busy guy that I am.”

 

Mako snorts his sarcastic agreement and clenches around Jamie, wrenching a high groan from the younger alpha and encouraging his hips into a few haphazard rolls.

 

“You teasing me, lovie?” Jamie purrs.  He laughs when Mako shrugs and does it again.  “If you’re this into getting fucked, I’m surprised you never found an alpha to do it in your… yakuza... thing.”

 

“Family,” Mako supplies.  He clears his throat to see if he can smooth it out, but when he speaks again, it’s just as hoarse.  “Being an alpha in a gang is all about showing strength,” he crackles out.

 

“And seeking pleasure is weakness?” Jamie asks, his voice surprisingly gentle.

 

“It is if the pleasure puts you in a…” he bites his tongue on the word “lesser,” because that’s not what he believes.  Not anymore. He finishes with, “omega or beta position.”

 

“Hm,” Jamie continues tracing his tattoos, putting a little more pressure into it, turning it into a choppy, focused massage.  Mako groans softly and relaxes beneath him. “That’s a shame.”

 

Mako agrees softly and melts into the attention.  He can’t remember the last time he was relaxed before he met Jamie.  Maybe when he was a child, before he grew in his tusks and started secreting some of the hardest alpha hormones in Japan.  “Besides,” he mumbles, “no one’s ever tried before.”

 

“Tried?” Jamie asks.

 

“To stand up to me,” Mako clarifies.  “It’s so hot…” he presses his hips back and clenches again, wanting to feel the hard dick and knot inside him more starkly.  “Fuck me again,” he begs.

 

Jamie laughs and goes from lying across Mako’s back to spreading his ass and lurching his hips again.  “Whatever you want, lovie. I’ll breed you as long as you want. Only fair, since you’re covering with your blokes for me.”

 

Mako moans low in his chest and grips at the ropes that still bind his hands.  He doesn’t know about “fair,” but whatever this is, he’ll take it. He’ll take it all.


End file.
